Captain’s Log, Supplemental
Our church youth group held its annual overnighter, this time with only the junior highers because the high schoolers were leaving early the following day for a rafting trip. (Even for high schoolers, a rafting trip after an overnighter (usually with no sleep) is probably not a good thing.)
I hate to admit it, but I am just getting too old. I sat to play Poor Deprived Child with one group (David, the junior high group leader, had split them into two groups to pit them against each other Survivor-style, and to get them to bond with each other).
Poor Deprived Child is actually quite fun. Everyone starts off with 10 or more markers or chips, then each one takes a turn. “I’m a poor deprived child because …” You try to list something you’ve never done or been that you think other people in the group would have done or been.
If you say something you haven’t done—for example, “I’m a poor deprived child because I’ve never traveled to Japan.”—then everyone who has traveled to Japan has to give you one of their markers (in a Japanese church, the majority of the kids have been to Japan at some point in time). The person with the most markers wins.
I had a good one. The kids had just finished a week of volunteering for Vacation Bible School at the church, so I said, “I’m a poor deprived child because I’ve never been to VBS.” SCORE!
Anyway, after about 15 minutes of sitting on the hard floor (that carpet is industrial grade and as thin as felt), my knees and my ankles ached when I got up. I had to hobble to a chair to rest and move my joints. My body is falling apart.
But I can’t really complain, because at least two other staff workers—my husband and another woman, Keiko—are older than I am, and they’re still going strong. Aren’t I pathetic? No, don’t answer that.
Our church youth group held its annual overnighter, this time with only the junior highers because the high schoolers were leaving early the following day for a rafting trip. (Even for high schoolers, a rafting trip after an overnighter (usually with no sleep) is probably not a good thing.)
I hate to admit it, but I am just getting too old. I sat to play Poor Deprived Child with one group (David, the junior high group leader, had split them into two groups to pit them against each other Survivor-style, and to get them to bond with each other).
Poor Deprived Child is actually quite fun. Everyone starts off with 10 or more markers or chips, then each one takes a turn. “I’m a poor deprived child because …” You try to list something you’ve never done or been that you think other people in the group would have done or been.
If you say something you haven’t done—for example, “I’m a poor deprived child because I’ve never traveled to Japan.”—then everyone who has traveled to Japan has to give you one of their markers (in a Japanese church, the majority of the kids have been to Japan at some point in time). The person with the most markers wins.
I had a good one. The kids had just finished a week of volunteering for Vacation Bible School at the church, so I said, “I’m a poor deprived child because I’ve never been to VBS.” SCORE!
Anyway, after about 15 minutes of sitting on the hard floor (that carpet is industrial grade and as thin as felt), my knees and my ankles ached when I got up. I had to hobble to a chair to rest and move my joints. My body is falling apart.
But I can’t really complain, because at least two other staff workers—my husband and another woman, Keiko—are older than I am, and they’re still going strong. Aren’t I pathetic? No, don’t answer that.
Comments
I remember turning thirty (so young!) and a couple of the teens realizing I was twice their age. The look of horror on their faces--oh, please! :)
It's not age that gets us, its all those sports we played as kids. LOL!
You're right. Sitting on the floor will make you ache. I just got over three hours on the bathroom floor with my dog for her to have her puppies. Ouch!
Thanks for sharing about the game.